Apathy-Antipathy
by Kimchi Poutine - Inactive
Summary: If Ishmael had forsaken them, so be it. Better that than cursing them in the worst way possible.


It was the nature of children to be adaptive in whatever environment they were in, which consequently meant details slipped out of their memory to accommodate their absence of understanding.

Even so, she clung to what memories she could with all the tenacity of a five-year-old girl whose life seemed hopeless. Her family was taken by a war she did not know, she was a survivor by circumstances she did not care for, and she was adopted into a clan for reasons she did not understand.

Her sponsor was an elder member of the revered Solace clan who, unbeknownst to the little girl, sensed the tremendous El energy within and saw an opportunity to bolster the clan's reputation.

But how would she know? Like all children caught in war, she had only wanted to live.

The head of the family had accepted another child months ago, forced by honour to acknowledge a young boy as his bastard son. It was the child's Rubenian heritage of controlling the power of El and that the clan leader did not abandon him. As for the girl-child, she had no direct ties. Still, she was absorbed into the clan as the head's daughter.

"That's her!"

She was now a Solace. But never was she accepted, the resentment of her stepsiblings as their father introduced her as their youngest sister flickering in her mind. Her father who barely paid attention to any of his legitimate children, let alone her.

She had learned to stay out of their way when she could. The kindest things they called her was 'stray', 'foundling'…

As the guards approached her, she screamed. No one dared oppose those who bore the Solace insignia, gilded with gold embroidery that marked them as guards of the eldest sibling

"No, stop! Please…!" She tried so hard to stay out of her siblings' way. But there were always the few who went out of _their_ way to torment her, to punish her for being alive and adopted into their family.

They were careful not to cause any injuries that would be fatal. For if the child's life were jeopardized, word would spread and even the head of the clan, for all his indifference to his progeny, would be livid. Even Siegmund Solace knew not to risk his father's ire.

When they were done violating her, she cried. New bruises bloomed to replace the old, cuts dabbed with disinfectant by servants who could do nothing save mitigate the aftermath. Despairing, she continued to live. The clan begrudged her even the right to live.

Telling other people didn't help. The servants were powerless, and intuitively she knew that her father would berate her, provoking further malice from the other children of the clan. She had nowhere to go.

The pendant was the only thing she could keep from her old life. Holding it brought a tiny hope that one day, it would get better. She always felt a little calmer when she did.

On the good days, she played with the servants. They felt sorry for her and pitied her as a bastard of the clan. Sometimes they brought their children to play games and fed them leftover tidbits from the kitchens.

Yet such days were few and far between, many of her days filled with repeated reprimands, abuse, and a lack of comprehension for it all.

She sighed, wiped her eyes, and went back inside.

The beating after lunch was the worst. Why did Siegmund Solace dislike her so much?

Her pendant was missing. She stumbled around, half-blinded by tears as she combed the grass for it. She had to find it, she had to!

"What are you doing here?"

His clothing marked him as another descendant of the clan. She trembled.

"No one here is gonna care that you're crying, you know."

Gulping down a sob, she nodded. "I know." She turned away, hoping he didn't see more tears seeping down. What could she do but cry?

He rebuked himself; he didn't mean to sound so heartless. He hated it here, hated his half-siblings for bullying him over something beyond his control and hated his supposed father for bringing him into this hellhole. Pity and remorse stirred as he reached out towards the girl.

"Maybe I can help you find whatever you're looking for. What happened?"

She cringed away from his hand. "It's nothing…I just have to find it…"

A closer inspection of the child angered the boy. "Your arms and face are covered in scars." Who would stoop so low as to torment a child…oh, he knew, alright. "I think I know who did this."

The guards didn't dare inflict lasting damage on the boy, the boy considered a prime candidate for the esteemed position of "El Master of the Sun". Additionally, the boy already had a rough control over his power over El and combined it with his sword. The guards weren't above mishandling children, but were cowards in the face of real danger.

"Hitting and stealing from little girls now?" He stood over them, scowling. "How can you fools even live with yourselves?"

"We…we were only ordered…"

Seeing her tormentors brought down, the guards who hit and now stole her pendant, frightened her. But bigger than her fear was…satisfaction. They _deserved_ to feel the pain she had felt, and seeing them cower and tremble when they hurt her hours ago…was satisfying.

"Run back to your masters." Her saviour was saying. "Go tell them who made you like this."

"Yes…sir." They scampered off.

"Here." He turned to the girl, "This belongs to you, right?"

"Y-yes…" She gingerly took the broken charm from his hand. "Thank you, sir."

He made a face that would've been funny if she wasn't scared. "You don't need to call me that. I'm not my brothers."

"Then what should I call you?"

"My name is…"

* * *

"…Perrihart! Come on, this way!" She ran off, her giggles trailing behind.

"Don't trip again, you'll hurt yourself!" He called out, chuckling.

When the both collapsed onto the grass, breathless, she turned to him with a wide smile. "Hey, Perrihart?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not so sad anymore."

Her face…the scars were fading too slowly. The wariness in her eyes evaporated when he was with her, protecting her. The guards didn't touch her face anymore, but her attempts to cover her arms with her sleeves and pain in her eyes did not escape him.

She still cried. But now he knew she wasn't crying just because she was sad. She cried because she knew she was helpless, constantly hounded by the ignorant and the envious, crying for her loss of innocence. She cried because she was resentful that she couldn't change anything.

Until he came along, she said. She still felt fear when the guards were near, but when he was around, she smiled.

"I'm glad. Do you still play with the maids?"

"Sometimes they let me play…only when the guards aren't around. They're afraid, too."

"…I'm sorry. I wish I could protect you more."

She shook her head. "You promised me, remember?"

"I did."

"Maybe one day…" She looked up. "…it'll get better."

"It will."

"Is that another promise?" she reached out, took his hand.

He held hers gently. "If you want it, Harnier."

* * *

"What in El's name do you think you're doing?" He snarled, edging closer to the oldest sibling of the Solace clan.

"How…how dare you? Who do you think you are?"

"Her face was cut open! You're pathetic if you think shoving an innocent child around is going to win you any favours! If her arms are broken you'd be damned sure Father's going to hear about it!"

"You…! Guards! Guards!"

"They're not going to come." He drew his sword, scarlet eyes frozen in scalding fury. "You think your soldiers would dare harm the one who will be the Master of Sun? Your soldiers only know how to mistreat those weaker than them."

"You…you! Curse you! If it wasn't for you, I'd be…!"

"Consider this a warning, Siegmund." Perrihart had, after all, promised her. "Harnier has nothing to do with this. Shouldn't you be more concerned with me, considering whom it is that _Father_ favours?"

The elder sibling was apoplectic, Perrihart's wrath no less intense. It was Siegmund's choice to make an enemy of the younger boy, but hurting Harnier proved his depravity. In truth, Perrihart had no interest for the title of Master, a position coveted by the rest of the clan and fought vehemently over, but it was what triggered Siegmund. If it provoked Siegmund to further despise him, so be it. Better him than Harnier.

"If you want to prove yourself, come find me anytime." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harnier running towards them. He turned to reassure her. "Hey, Harnier, it's fine—"

"Are you sure?" Harnier glanced at her eldest brother before turning to Perrihart. "Did he hurt you?"

His entire back was exposed; what a stupid fool Perrihart was. He raised his own sword, his grin splattered with malice. If this brat was out of the way, then he could…he could finally get what was his …!

"Perrihart! No!"

All Harnier saw was a gleam of silver behind him, and she lunged forward. raised her hand to block the blow; the sword couldn't be worse than what she had endured. But she wasn't going to let Perrihart get hurt!

Blinding, radiant, pure; the slash of light knocked the weapon out of his hands as Siegmund toppled backwards. Her hand continued to pulsate in light as she glared. She couldn't come up with good words to say like Perrihart, but she didn't care. She glowered at the person who dared to hurt one of the few things Harnier would protect, to fight for.

She had not been schooled in hate. Until she'd been forced into this clan, she'd not known what it was to hate another human being, have never been given reason for hatred. After Siegmund, she'd learned quickly. She'd come to hate Siegmund even more than she feared him, hated the scorn he showed her and Perrihart, hated his boastings that he would be the Master, hated the way he saw her fear and laughed at it.

Sigmund unsteadily rose, cursing. But now Perrihart had his sword out and the brat's expression instilled dread. "Don't think either of you will get away with this."

"Try training instead of threatening if you want to be the Master." Perrihart shot back.

This time Perrihart stared until Siegmund's retreating figure faded in the distance.

"Um…Perrihart? Are you hurt?" She was breathing hard as the light faded from her hand. "I'm sorry that you're always getting hurt because of me."

"Hey." Sheathing his sword, he held her shoulders. "Don't apologize. The ones at fault are Siegmund and his minions. More importantly, how did you do that?"

"I—I don't know. He was going to hurt you."

Emotions flickered in his face; what was he thinking? But he shook his head, and hugged her. "You protected me this time, Harnier."

"It was nothing." She mumbled shyly. "You do it all the time."

"Thank you."

* * *

" _If I can get your El energy, I can become the Master! Both of you eyesores will be out of my way!"_

"You're insane. You'd go as so far to kill…" Perrihart strained visibly against his brother's stolen power. Harnier lay crumpled, growing paler by the second.

"It won't matter when I claim my birthright. Call it an accident and I'll become the greatest member of the Solace clan!"

He was running out of time! Desperation for Harnier and the hatred he had suppressed for Siegmund—did Harnier stop breathing? "You're a murderer! _Get away from her!"_ He thrust out a hand, a spear of light thrown towards the madman's chest.

"Ugh…!" The energy of El shot cleanly through, the burst of translucent energy blasting in a shower of blood. "You…you bastard…"

He could sense the El energy seeping out, returning to its rightful beholder. Over him stood the bastard as he spat, "I've always been a bastard. But you'll never be the Master. Go to Henir."

Siegmund slumped forward, his expression twisted in jealousy, as he had always been.

Perrihart spared the corpse a contemptuous look before tending to Harnier. Thank the El, she breathed. Damn Siegmund! He tormented them out of envy? Clan Solace was a harsh house, but he didn't think they'd kill. If the eldest sibling was willing to stain his hands with blood, there was no telling what the others plotted.

He had not consciously considered the possibility of murder. Now he found himself able to consider little else. He took Harnier protectively in his arms.

"He…is dead?"

"You would've died."

"I thought I already had…" she shuddered. No, she did not grieve for Siegmund. She was glad she was dead. The consequences—

"We need to leave."

"What?!"

"There's nothing else to do. Siegmund tried to kill you, and the others might try to finish what he started."

Their other siblings; she whitened. "When…? But today's…"

"Exactly. While everyone's distracted, we can slip away. I have enough money for a carriage that will take us out of the city. We can live our own lives." His eyes glowed in sincerity. "I promised you, remember? That it'll get better. This is our chance."

Perrihart never lied. "…Yes…all right. You're coming with me, right?"

"Of course. We'll leave all this behind, I promise."

He left her with the details of their plan, dragging Siegmund's body as Harnier withdrew to her room. They were actually running away from the Solace clan. She had thought this multiple times, but was so afraid. But if she went with Perrihart, it would be okay. She trusted him. He had told her to pack lightly. She never thought she could escape…but if she could leave everything behind, start anew, El will it…

Perhaps it was a foolish hope, to shed the bitterness and grief behind like a discarded shell. The thought of Siegmund's sneer and the merciless guards still brought back the sense of helplessness and with it, rage.

…

Wait…why was she glowing?

* * *

"I see you have already prepared to leave." The envoys flanked her shimmering figure. "Is this all you bring, My Lady?"

"I—yes." Her eyes were downcast. "This will do."

"Do you wish to make farewells to the clan before we leave, My Lady?"

Farewells; the maids she had played with had either retired or were dismissed for playing with her. She saw her sisters through the doorway, eyeing her with murderous envy…but they couldn't touch her. None dared lay a finger on the new successor of the El Lady, Chosen of the Night of Ishmael.

She wanted to see Perrihart…no, she couldn't. She couldn't look him in the eye and make him break the last promise he made to her. If he could run and be free without her…she was foolish to think she could leave with him…the world, the goddess, were unfair, but she had no choice. She never did.

"I am ready to leave."

"Good. The High Priest is waiting. The inauguration ceremony will be prepared upon your arrival, My Lady. Let us escort you to our carriage." To another, "Carry the Lady's belongings."

For one, wild moment, she considered running to Perrihart. Was he still waiting?

"You look troubled, My Lady. Does something ail you?"

"…No."

"If you need anything, please ask. To assist you as the Lady of El is a great honour." The chief of the envoy bowed deeply.

"A great honour." She murmured softly.

"Yes. But you have been given the highest honour."

As they exited the main hall, a tall man knelt before them.

"A great blessing upon the clan of Solace." He looked up at Harnier. "My blessing, future Lady of El; my daughter."

Harnier stared back with an empty gaze. Were the first seeds of the Illuminous Phenomenon growing? Or maybe she saw the man who never cared for his progeny unless they brought him glory, who turned a blind eye to her and Perrihart.

"It is the will of the goddess." She walked past him towards the waiting carriage. She couldn't come up with good words to say like Perrihart, but she didn't care.

They grasped her arm, steadying her as she stepped up.

" _Harnier!"_

His hair was disheveled, his face feverish. He fought against the soldiers, screaming her name as the envoy explained the circumstances.

"What do you mean?! Not her! _Move aside!_ Harnier! We promised…to leave together!"

 _I'm sorry._ She shook her head; she could no longer cry. Only Harnier could cry. The future El Lady could not. She stepped into the coach.

He clawed at the carriage, crying for her. His hand broke through the flaps.

"Guards!" The envoy barked, "Take this Solace fool away! The future El Lady must be protected!"

She heard the orders given by her father, the rushing of boots. She reached out; his hand was icy in hers. He had been waiting for a long time. If only she had left earlier…yet again, Perrihart was going to be hurt because of her.

Too soon, his hand was wrenched from her grip. With a crack of a whip, the carriage moved, slowly picking up speed. His calls grew smaller, each plea ringing in her ears.

"If…if you could…" she asked the envoy beside her, "…please make sure no harm comes to him. He was only trying to…he didn't understand…"

He seemed confused that His Lady would defend one who attempted assault, but "Your word will be delivered, My Lady. None would dare defy your will."

As the carriage stopped momentarily to dispatch a messenger with her orders, her shoulders slumped, masking her silent, tearless sobs.

"Just what were you thinking?! I should have you thrown in the dungeons for this!"

"And what about my brothers and sisters, who fight and kill each other to gain your favour?"

Facing the livid head of the clan was more than enough to intimidate anyone, but Perrihart, racked with grief and rage, was reckless. Her hands had been warm, the moment too short. "You never even acknowledged Harnier before she was chosen!"

"I brought both of you into the clan! How dare you speak that way to me!"

Pinned by soldiers, he could do nothing but glower. "Your eldest son attempted to assassinate the future Lady of El. You think anyone here cared about her?"

"…Siegmund? Where is he?"

"Dead. He tried to kill Harnier by taking her El energy, so I killed him."

"You bastard."

"You and my brothers have never made me forget that."

"I'll have you hanged!"

"Then what about the others, who were planning to take her El energy for themselves and finish what Siegmund started?"

"A message from The Lady." The members of the clan parted for the envoy, who set down a scroll and left with a bow.

A pregnant pause drifted as he read the parchment, his expression growing darker. He threw down the scroll. "She commanded that you remain unharmed."

His knees grew weak.

"The El Lady's word is law." He looked at the rest of his clan in warning. "But I doubt you'll ever see her again…my son. An impetuous brat like you can never get close to The El Lady unless you become—"

* * *

"—Master of the Sun. Is something the matter?" She was just about to step into the chamber of the El.

He stayed in her way, looking around to make sure no one else was present. "Harnier, you…are you truly forgetting everything?"

"You're…referring to the Illuminous Phenomenon?"

"Do you not remember…Siegmund? Our clan? Maybe it's best that you forget…"

Her gaze flickered. Perrihart—Master Solace—broke her composure more than the other Masters. It felt as if he was stirring a draining bowl.

"The Solace clan, yes. We spent quite some time within." Her voice was empty. "Many things have happened."

"They have." He agreed. "A lot has changed."

"I'm sure they have." She nodded, uneasy. She remembered cruel faces, bitter pain, and a young boy to protect her through it all. But that no longer mattered. The girl who lived those memories was a fading spirit, an essence absorbed for the good of Elrios and the El.

The El resonated with her core, and through their connection, the will of Ishmael flowered. The El…needed its goddess, but Ishmael could only incarnate within mortal forms, the El reached out to its goddess like a child seeking its mother. A human would be obliterated from the sheer aura of such celestial power. That was why even Harnier, the chosen El Lady, would wither away as the divine essence would be absorbed by the El. It would start with her emotions, memories, and…being.

"The El is calling. If you'll excuse me, Master Solace."

As the giant El loomed above, she raised her hands and chanted. Through the closing doors, he could only watch.

With the broken promise, he had hated and loved. Those were the only emotions he could feel. He had tried so hard to protect her, and when she was torn away from him, her warm touch and smile goaded him to become the next Master. He despised his opportunistic father, loathed his siblings who now fawned over the El Lady when they mocked her for years, detested the clan that welcomed him only because of glory, reviled the world for choosing her to bear its burden, and above all, hated the El, hated it for what it was doing to Harnier, hated that everyone would die without it, hated himself for wondering if he was selfishly reaching for what he wanted instead of doing what Harnier would want.

He hated for her, because she could no longer hate.


End file.
